


Second Nature

by orphan_account



Category: NCT (Band)
Genre: Ambiguous Relationships, Light Angst, M/M, Multi, Plot What Plot/Porn Without Plot
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-01-21
Updated: 2020-01-21
Packaged: 2021-02-27 06:12:59
Rating: Explicit
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 8,473
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/22352380
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/orphan_account/pseuds/orphan_account
Summary: Doyoung loves Jungwoo very much, but he loves Taeyong very, very much.
Relationships: Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Jungwoo, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Kim Jungwoo/Lee Taeyong, Kim Dongyoung | Doyoung/Lee Taeyong, Kim Jungwoo/Lee Taeyong
Comments: 2
Kudos: 65





	Second Nature

“It’s a party in here,” Jungwoo says quietly, as he enters the room. 

As per instruction—nothing evocative, technically, just a “come over and lock the door”—Jungwoo locks the door, and he’s instantly not sure what to do with himself.

At the sound of his voice, the two occupants on the bed turn and smile at him. 

Jungwoo smiles back crooked, a little shaky. 

Doyoung chuckles. “Finally.”

“You’re about to bring some life into it,” Taeyong says.

Doyoung comes up to hug him. It’s a gesture of reassurance, something Jungwoo really needs right now. Jungwoo wraps his arms tight around his favorite person in the world. He doesn’t care that Doyoung can feel his heart hammering through his thin shirt. 

Doyoung laughs in his ear. It calms him down a little. 

“Relax, sweetie,” he whispers.

Jungwoo blushes, nods into his shoulder. “I’ll try.”

After a moment, Taeyong takes his place. Jungwoo leans down, collects the smaller hyung in his arms. They both smell the same, the same body wash clinging fresh on their after shower skins. He swallows.

When they pull away, standing across him, Taeyong and Doyoung are watching him intently. It makes him nervous.

“You want to know, right?” Taeyong asks, one last time.

Jungwoo gulps. “Yeah. I want to.”

“Okay. Sit down. You can just watch us comfortably.”

  
  
  
  
  
  


Doyoung’s hand are roaming Taeyong’s back. Taeyong’s almost on his toes, hugging him. Taeyong’s eyes are closed, head tilted into Doyoung’s neck. It’s a full hug, like the one they gave him. For the first time, Jungwoo wonders if they’re nervous too.

“How’re you feeling?” He hears Doyoung ask.

Taeyong laughs. “Shy all of a sudden. But I’m ready.”

Doyoung turns to him, on the chair. “We’ve never shown this to anyone.”

Jungwoo nods. “How long have you guys been…doing this for?”

“Take a guess.”

Doyoung lifts his hands to gently cup Taeyong’s face, and then he leans in. Just like that, they’re kissing. Jungwoo’s eyes go wide. 

Doyoung hyung and Taeyong hyung are kissing.

_ Of course they would. They’re da...they’re dating. _

He quickly reorients himself, trying to remind himself that this is nothing to be surprised over, nothing next to what’s to come, what’s happening here—what the three of them have convened in this room for. Still, it’s a sight to see them kissing, given who they are, and who they are to him. He watches the practiced tilt of their heads, their lips pulling apart and pressing back against each other. They kiss smooth and slow, nothing deep, just basking in each other and getting in the mood. 

Doyoung effortlessly unbuttons Taeyong’s silk shirt while barely peeling away from him. Tugs it down Taeyong’s shoulders, slides it off his arms, and Taeyong arches into him for warmth. Kisses down Taeyong’s neck while ghosting fingers down the small of his back. 

“Mm,” Taeyong moans as they pull apart.

“He’s sensitive here,” Doyoung explains with a smirk.

Jungwoo nods numbly. His mouth has gone dry. 

He watches Taeyong lean up for a kiss again, watches Doyoung meet him. Taeyong wraps his arms around Doyoung’s neck, but it doesn’t take long before Doyoung takes them off his shoulder and turns Taeyong around by the waist.

“Show Jungwoo,” he says from behind him.

All the shyness in Taeyong has evaporated. He slips his arms behind his head languidly, hands tangling lazily into Doyoung’s hair as he bares his chest in plain sight for Jungwoo. 

His chest is smooth, abs leans, scar from his surgery a dark engraving to the right of his navel, but otherwise it’s free of any markings. Jungwoo has seen him topless many times, but still he thinks that Taeyong hyung is so thin. Jungwoo watches the steady rise and fall of his chest. The expansions and contractions of his ribcage. He licks his lips, anticipating. Waiting for what’s next.

Doyoung’s hands come around to hug Taeyong’s waist, and he leans in until his lips are trailing along the shell of his ear, his tongue following the curve. Jungwoo watches Doyoung’s lips move, form around inaudible words in Taeyong’s ear. At first, Taeyong is watching Jungwoo, holding each other’s gaze steady, but whatever Doyoung is saying to him makes him squeeze his eyes closed and throw his head back. Doyoung’s hands crawl up his sides, up and down, up and down. He teases Taeyong’s nipples for Jungwoo to see, all the while whispering things into his ear, and Taeyong is nodding, letting out little breathless “uh-huh”s in response. 

Taeyong hyung looks so hot right now, Jungwoo thinks, having his sanity worked apart by the words penetrating his mind and Doyoung’s fingers playing with his nipples. Jungwoo doesn’t know what kind of lewd fantasies are being shared between them right now, but he doesn’t need to know. He has a feeling it might be about him, just from the way Doyoung doesn’t take his eyes off him as he speaks into Taeyong’s ears. The idea stirs something at the bottom of his stomach. Still, the sight is enough. His own imagination is driving him wild.

Doyoung’s hands slide down Taeyong’s abdomen, until the tips of his fingers are reaching under the band of his pajama pants. Without warning, he reaches in, pulls out Taeyong’s half hard erection for Jungwoo to see. 

Jungwoo’s breath hitches.

“Stroke yourself for him,” he says, loud enough for both of them to hear.

Taeyong opens his eyes a little wider. It’s still the half-lidded look he loves to give the camera when he’s trying to look seductive, except right now he’s not trying. His eyes are locked on Jungwoo as a hand descends to stroke himself. Jungwoo’s eyes follow the movement, staring at his reddened tip as it pushes through the tunnel of Taeyong’s hand and disappears into his grip, again and again as he pumps himself slowly. His mouth is watering, saliva so thick. Unconsciously, he wets his lips. Doyoung smiles in response. 

“You like this?” He asks.

Jungwoo flushes hard. He bites down on his lip.

Doyoung laughs, a clear sound cutting through the haze in his head.

“Why? Did you think you wouldn’t get turned on?”

“I don’t know, it’s just—sitting here—I don’t know what to think.” He hides his face in his hands, but he hasn’t taken his eyes off the way Taeyong’s wrist is working around his dick. 

“Don’t think, Jungwoo,” Taeyong tells him, “Just enjoy.”

“Hyung,” Doyoung pats his hip, “want to get on the bed?”

Jungwoo’s eyes follow Taeyong as he goes to lie down, his hips near the edge and legs dangling off the bed. With one swift tug, Doyoung pulls Taeyong’s loose pants off him, and he’s the only person in the room naked head to toe. Taeyong pulls his legs up, heels on the edge of the bed, his abs flexing. Filling the space naturally, Doyoung sidles up between his legs. Jungwoo has no idea what to expect. He doesn’t know what’s happening until Doyoung drops to his knees and puts a hand on Taeyong’s hip. Jungwoo watches Doyoung lean in and plant a kiss on Taeyong’s hard shaft.

Taeyong props himself up on one elbow. With his other hand, he grips his own dick and rubs it lovingly against Doyoung’s cheek. Their eyes on each other, Doyoung opens his mouth and sticks out his tongue for him, and Taeyong rubs his dick against the wetness he’s been offered.

“Lean back, baby.”

Taeyong falls back down the moment Doyoung’s lips wrap around his cock properly. His head falls back, and it lolls over to the side to watch Jungwoo upside down, but Jungwoo is trying his best to squint from where he feels chained to his chair. He swallows, just barely rising out of his seat. He watches, eyes wide, as Doyoung’s lips stretch around Taeyong’s cock, watches him take the majority of his length in his mouth in one smooth descent. When he comes back up, Taeyong’s cock is glistening. Doyoung pulls away for a second to gather some spit, rolls it off his tongue onto Taeyong’s tip, and dives back in again. The spit dribbles across Doyoung’s fingers at the base holding Taeyong’s dick upright. When his head starts to bob, the quiet sounds that fill the room are obscene in Jungwoo’s ears.

“Unngh,” Taeyong gasps. “Fuck. Doyoungie.” 

He wants to buck up, but his hips are being held down by a hand. Doyoung pulls off him, licking around his tip.

“Feels good?” He’s panting lightly.

“Uh huh. Don’t stop.”

Devotedly, Doyoung takes him into his mouth again, humming around him as he goes down. Taeyong whimpers.

Jungwoo takes in a shaky breath. His hands are gripping the armrests of his seat. At some point, he had gotten so hard, and he has no idea what to do about his obvious erection.

“Jungwoo.”

His head snaps up. “Yes?”

Taeyong gestures with his hand. “Come closer.”

Jungwoo squirms in his seat for only a moment, before he’s pushing himself to his feet. He can’t deny he’d been wishing he could see them from a better angle. He sits down on the bed by Taeyong’s head, and Taeyong is smiling at him. Taeyong lifts a hand, letting his knuckles graze over Jungwoo’s bulge, but he’s not at the right angle to grip him. Jungwoo closes his eyes. A moan escapes his throat. He’s so embarrassed, but he thinks his hyungs really can’t blame him for the way things have come to develop, not when they’re doing...this right in front of him. Not that it wasn’t exactly what he asked for—but his own involvement in the process was something he had rather leave as an abstract, murky concept in his mind.

Doyoung comes up with a pop. 

“Jungwoo,” he says, voice a little hoarse. Jungwoo shivers. “Have you ever sucked dick?”

Jungwoo shakes his head.

“Do you want to try?”

His mind goes blank. He needs a moment to process the question. This is going further than he anticipated—he had only asked to watch. Jungwoo doesn’t know if he should, doesn’t know what it would mean if he accepted their request to actually  _ join _ them, doesn’t know if he’s even any good, but he wants to try sucking dick. He’s only done it in his imagination. Only dreamed about Doyoung hyung’s dick before. But he has no problems with Taeyong hyung’s dick, slick with Doyoung’s spit. He swallows. “Can I?”

Doyoung grins, getting up off his knees. “All yours, sweetie.”

Jungwoo takes his place. Doyoung gives him a loving pat on the head as he leans into the space between Taeyong’s legs. Gingerly, he lifts the slick cock off of Taeyong’s stomach. Taeyong sighs shakily. His stomach muscles flutter when Jungwoo touches him. Jungwoo pushes his thighs open and breathes open mouthed over his cock and balls, steadying himself. Then, eyes locked with Taeyong, he takes him into his mouth. He closes his eyes. 

Immediately, it’s sticky with precum. The tip of his dick feels soft and squishy as it glides past Jungwoo’s lips. On his way down, his tongue nudges against the few folds of foreskin stretched around the base of Taeyong’s head. His cock tastes like salt, like skin. But it’s so hot in his mouth, and he can feel it pulse on his tongue. 

Jungwoo sucks his cheeks in a little bit as he comes up. When he opens his eyes, Taeyong is smiling encouragingly at him. 

“That’s it, sweetie,” Doyoung says from above.

Jungwoo’s cheeks flame. He has no idea what to say in response, so he just takes Taeyong’s cock into his mouth again to avoid the embarrassment. 

He sucks Taeyong the way he saw Doyoung do it, and how he remembers from all the porn he’s ever seen. Taeyong reaches a gentle hand down into his hair, more patting him than tangling into his hair or guiding him. Jungwoo doesn’t know what he’s doing or if he’s doing ok. He relaxes his mouth and lets his lips and tongue do the work, sucking as he rises every time. There’s something addicting about this, Jungwoo suddenly decides. It’s very much as hot as he thought it would be, the idea of dick in his mouth, shutting him up and making it hard to breathe, the slick slip and slide, and being able to make his hyung pant and gasp like that. Like Doyoung, he starts to bob on Taeyong’s dick too, sucking on it vigorously like it’s his favorite treat. Behind him, he’s vaguely aware of Doyoung palming himself. 

“You’re doing great,” he hears, before feeling a hand run gently down his back. It sends shivers down his spine, and he accidentally moans around Taeyong’s dick. Taeyong’s fingers twitch in his hair.

Jungwoo thinks about the term throat fucking, and wonders what it would feel like to take Taeyong’s dick in as far as his throat. Experimentally, he tries to relax and slide down further. Doyoung and Taeyong watch him in silence. Taeyong isn’t particularly long, average length and girth, so Jungwoo is able to swallow his entire cock before the tip is hitting the back of his throat, and he gags a little bit before pulling off.

A string of something stickier than spit snaps between his bottom lip and Taeyong’s tip when he pulls away. He sits there panting, then looks up to Doyoung for guidance. 

He’s tried it. Would do it again, if Doyoung asked. Now what?

Jungwoo watches Doyoung lift a hand. Doyoung props a finger under Jungwoo’s chin, brushes the pad of his thumb over his wet lip. It smears the wetness across his mouth. Doyoung’s still palming himself while he observes Jungwoo from above, just standing there, eyes gleaming and absolutely entranced. Jungwoo holds totally still for him. From the hungry look in his eyes, Jungwoo’s not sure Doyoung hyung is thinking about Taeyong hyung anymore, and the thought makes his heart skip a beat.

Doyoung laughs out loud, breathless. He shakes his head.

“What is it?” Jungwoo breathes.

Doyoung just shakes his head again. “Do you want to kiss?”

Jungwoo’s eyes go wide. The idea makes him lose it. Kissing his beloved Doyoung hyung. He nods fervently. It’s hard to hide how eager he is for the idea, and Jungwoo feels embarrassed by how obvious he is being. Doyoung doesn’t laugh at him like he’s afraid he would. He pulls him up off the floor by the chin until they’re eye level, still holding him there. Doyoung’s eyes drop to his lips, half lidded, flicker up again at him. Jungwoo thinks he’s going to lose his mind. 

“What did his cock taste like?” 

Doyoung licks his lips, and he’s leaning in closer until the tips of their noses brush, and he’s staring up at Jungwoo past his eyelashes.

Jungwoo’s mind is blank, and Doyoung knows it, knows exactly what he’s doing to the boy. When Jungwoo takes too long to answer, he says,

“Show me.”

Doyoung leans in, pushes their lips together. Instantly, there’s a tongue reaching into Jungwoo’s surprised, slack open mouth, urging his own tongue out of its cavern. Jungwoo closes his eyes immediately and tilts his head, letting Doyoung in deep. He loves this. He’s kissing Doyoung hyung. Their spit and sweat and the sticky precum from Taeyong’s cock is being swirled in their mouths back and forth between them, and it should be filthy, but it feels so hot. Somehow the knowledge that they both taste of Taeyong’s cock right now turns him on even more. He’s so absorbed in the kiss that he almost doesn’t notice Doyoung trying to peel the plaid shirt off his shoulders. He shrugs it off to help him, until he’s left in only his T-shirt. A hand pulls their bodies closer by his back. Then it’s reaching under his shirt, playing with the elastic band of his boxers rising above the line of his loose jeans. 

Their lips part. Jungwoo is breathing heavily. Doyoung lets go of him, and the same burning look is still there in his eyes—he looks like he wants to eat him alive. The stare sends electricity down his spine. Jungwoo suddenly realizes he’s entirely at Doyoung’s mercy, that at some point along their games he had already mentally submitted himself to everything Doyoung might ask of him. And Doyoung seems to have realized the same and is calculating what he’s allowed to do in his mind. 

“You’re so cute, sweetheart. I don’t think you know it, though.” Doyoung grins at him, thin-lipped.

“But also really sexy,” Taeyong adds from the bed. Jungwoo looks over at him; he’s stroking himself leisurely. 

Jungwoo’s mind snaps out of it for a millisecond and gains some sense. “Taeyong hyung, you don’t...mind?” 

“What would I mind?”

“Kissing. Me and Doyoung hyung.”

“You really don’t know how cute you are, Jungwoo,” Taeyong chuckles. “You don’t know how much he likes you.”

Jungwoo’s blushing to the tips of his ears. The fact that his hyungs appreciate him here—want him—makes his heart take a painful leap. He looks back to Doyoung. He’s smiling lovingly at him, eyes narrowing into crescents. He leans into Jungwoo’s ear. 

“Do you want to know what it  _ feels _ like? Do you want to feel it, too?” Doyoung whispers. 

Jungwoo gasps, his hands clenching into fists around Doyoung’s shoulders. His cock twitches from the hot breath tickling his ears. Doyoung’s breathy, distinct voice sounds straight from heaven. He’s losing his breath, quick and shallow. He’s so hard, the tug in his jeans is starting to hurt. 

“Is- is it ok?” He whispers back. His shaky voice is loud in the silence.

“Of course, sweetie. If you want it.”

“What will you do?”

“I won’t hurt you. I’ll be very gentle.” 

“ _ Ahn...hyung… _ ”

“Why don’t we show you first? Sit down on the bed.”

Jungwoo’s entire weight is leaning into Doyoung right now. He can barely hold himself upright for much longer. His knees give and he drops back onto the bed.

Jungwoo sits by Taeyong awkwardly while Doyoung leaves to flip through his drawers. Both his and Taeyong’s eyes follow Doyoung as he shuffles across the room. Doyoung comes back with a bottle of lube. He gestures for the pillow by Taeyong’s head and Jungwoo hands it to him. He grips Taeyong’s legs by the underside of his knees and pushes his ass up in the air, puts the pillow under Taeyong’s hips. Taeyong’s legs stay held up for him. 

“Can you hold on to Taeyong hyung’s hands? Right by his head. That’s it.”

Jungwoo reaches out, and Taeyong’s hand unfurl to receive his.

“We haven’t done this in a while.”

“I miss your cock,” Taeyong licks his lips, looking down between his legs. “Fuck me soon.”

“I know, baby.”

Jungwoo thinks, momentarily, that it’s crazy that they’re comfortable enough to say these kinds of things to each other. The question of  _ how long _ hovers in his head.

Doyoung uncaps the lube, but pauses. He unbuttons his own jeans and shrugs out of his own underwear first. Jungwoo barely gets a look at his erection before Doyoung is leaning into the bed and warming the lube between his fingers. He smoothes the wetness again and again over Taeyong’s exposed hole. 

From how Taeyong is folded, Jungwoo can see past his balls at how Doyoung’s long fingers circle his entrance, driving the tips in and pulling out, playing with him. He gulps. He can’t take his eyes off the scene.

Then Doyoung pushes both fingers in at once, and Taeyong’s moan sounds like pure bliss. There is no pain, Doyoung knows that, with the kind of control and knowledge of boundaries that only comes with doing this time after time. Jungwoo is in awe: he has tried to finger himself before, and even one finger was hard to take, hard to make it initially past the ring of muscles when his body is trying to reject everything coming in. Jungwoo sees the tendons in Doyoung’s wrist tighten, and Taeyong lets out a debauched moan. He can only imagine him curling his fingers inside him, hitting his prostate, his wagging fingers finding the spot exactly where he knows it to be and mercilessly driving into it. Whether it’s his hand sweating or Taeyong’s, Jungwoo doesn’t know. Just knows he feels Taeyong squeeze his hand every time he moans, every time Doyoung’s fingers scissor his hole. 

Soon Doyoung’s fingers pull out. “You’re so relaxed for me today.”

“Can’t you tell? I’m really, really turned on,” he laughs breathlessly. Taeyong looks up at Jungwoo. Jungwoo meets his eyes, and he doesn’t know what to say. Taeyong smiles, wide with teeth. 

“Jungwoo,” he says, “would you kiss me?”

Jungwoo is caught off guard. “You want me to?”

“Yeah. Come?”

Jungwoo lets go of his hands. He stands up and turns around so he’s bent over Taeyong’s top half, and then he leans in. Taeyong’s hand comes up to hold his face. Taeyong hyung’s lips feel different from Doyoung hyung’s, less plump and more perky, and in any case, Taeyong kisses him in a slow rhythm, close mouthed and just enjoying the sensation. Jungwoo feels Taeyong’s other hand grab at his bulge through his pants. 

“Take your cock out...I want to see it. You can stroke yourself, too.”

Jungwoo obeys, making work of his pants button and zipper with one hand while the other props him upright over Taeyong as they kiss. Finally, his dick is free. He’s just about to sigh when Taeyong suddenly moans into his mouth.

“Mmf—” 

Jungwoo straightens, and he sees now that Doyoung’s cock is pressed up against Taeyong’s entrance, nudging his head against it suggestively. He has to just breathe and watch it for a while as Doyoung slides the tip of his cock back and forth against Taeyong’s lube slicked hole, up and down his crack. And then Jungwoo hovers closer, and the head is pushing in. 

Taeyong is thoroughly prepped, but Doyoung goes slow regardless. His veiny member disappears into Taeyong’s hole inch by inch. Taeyong’s mouth is open on a silent gasp, but he’s breathing evenly so he can be relaxed as he takes Doyoung in. Raw. They have sex raw without protection. Every once in a while, when the rest of them are out at the movies or having dinner and Doyoung and Taeyong hyung are at home, they’re busy feeling each other’s insides, skin on skin in their room, in the bathroom, maybe on their couch. Jungwoo has no idea what to do with this information except feel it shoot straight to his dick. He stares at the push of cock into ass until the image of Taeyong’s hole sucking Doyoung’s cock in is burned in the back of his eyelids. 

Then Doyoung starts to move. Pulls out a little bit then pushes back in. Jungwoo observes the obscene way Taeyong’s flesh around his asshole is pulled along the slide.

“I don’t think I can wait today,” Doyoung breathes. Then he nearly snarls. His hands land on Taeyong’s hips. There’s a feral look in his eyes.

“Don’t wait. Just fuck me hard. Show Jungwoo how you do me.”

Jungwoo feels wetness on his fingers wrapped around his own cock. It’s hard as a rod and leaking. He’s stroking himself slowly and carefully— even if his orgasm is still building, he feels dangerously like he might lose control and come any moment.

“Sweetheart,” Doyoung calls for him, that name reserved for him, “hold hyung’s wrists above his head. Yeah, like that.”

Taeyong voluntarily folds his wrists above him. Jungwoo lays a hand down, applying minimum pressure, but his presence is there. He realizes he’s always holding Taeyong, and a question comes up in his mind.

“Hyung, do you like being held down?”

Taeyong blinks at him. Then he and Doyoung both break into a smile.

“I like submitting control to my partner.”

“Sometimes I will tie him up.”

“ _ Bondage… _ ” Jungwoo whispers.

Doyoung laughs. “Sure. Just with a tie, or a belt though. Taeyongie loves it. You’re turning him on a lot right now, just being there.”

Barely a breath after he says that, Doyoung grips Taeyong’s hips and  _ thrusts _ , effectively ending all conversation. Jungwoo’s eyes trail back to where their bodies are meeting. Doyoung’s dick slides in deep, and he pushes until it’s in all the way. All of Taeyong’s muscles clench down on him briefly—he loves the hot feeling of a hard cock buried inside him, wants to feel it lodged inside.

Doyoung pulls out an inch, thrusts back in. He starts fucking Taeyong in earnest, pushing himself balls deep with every snap of his hips.

“Ahh— ahh— hah— fuck— ”

The slap of thigh against thigh is resounding, even if their voices are quiet. Jungwoo worries for a moment the people next door will hear, but he quickly realizes his hyungs have long left these mundane concerns behind and ascended to their own heavenly realm. Sweat is running down Doyoung’s neck, and he’s making faces Jungwoo’s only seen him make when he’s singing intensely. Taeyong’s eyes are almost entirely closed, his pupils blown wide and eyerims glistening with tears from how good it feels. They’ve more or less forgotten about Jungwoo, so absorbed in each other, and it turns Jungwoo on for some reason. He finds the scene before him unbearably hot, Taeyong hyung fucked loose, fucked till he’s a moaning mess, fucked so good by his lover...

“Unn— Doyoungie— shit—”

Slowly, Doyoung comes to a halt. Wipes a drop of sweat running down his forehead. Turns to Jungwoo. “Taeyong hyung likes it best like this.”

And he pulls his hips back, no longer buried inside, withdrawing all but his head. Then he pushes in until he’s half way, pulls out, slowly at first. But then his hips start to rock upwards, quick and shallow, and Taeyong starts to cry out like the sound is getting directly fucked out of his throat. His hands thrash in Jungwoo’s grip, and Jungwoo doesn’t know if he should keep pushing his wrists into the bed when he looks like he wants desperately to grip onto something for purchase.

“Like this I can— hit his sweet spot—”

“Ahh—  _ Yeah… _ ! Nnn...”

Jungwoo swallows. His saliva is so thick. He wonders...with equal parts trepidation and excitement, whether this is what Doyoung hyung would do to him later, too. If he could be fucked until he ascends. If he could feel as good as Taeyong hyung is feeling right now. If Doyoung hyung will make him feel good, or just use him like he wants to be used.

“How’re you feeling, baby?”

“Ughnn...hah…” Taeyong throws his head back, baring his neck. 

Doyoung grins, catching his breath himself. “Speechless?”

“Ughh…fuck…” Taeyong clearly doesn’t want to words right now.

He gets a light smack on the bum. 

“Turn around.” 

Taeyong wiggles his wrists; Jungwoo lets go. He flips over and gets rid of the pillow. He gets on his knees and stretches out his spine like a cat, curving downwards gracefully and beautifully. Doyoung pulls his hips back up against his cock. Pushes in. Fucks him. He can’t quite hit his prostate in this angle, but he can bury himself deep and just fuck him like that, which is something else Taeyong likes quite a bit.

Doyoung snaps his hips against Taeyong’s ass, again and again, fucking little moans out of him. Their thighs, balls are slapping together again. Jungwoo observes his Doyoung hyung’s beautiful body put into motion, his ab muscles tight and supplying force to his thrusts. He’s just as sexy as he’s always imagined. Broad shoulders into toned arms, down into his thin waist and hips. A small trail of hair reaches from the base of his navel to the black mass of hair at the base of his dick. His arms holding Taeyong’s hips are taut, veins especially accentuated in the moment. Jungwoo closes his eyes, jerking himself to the image and with a renewed vigor. He would give anything to this man. He knows Doyoung would never hurt him, would surrender himself to him the same way Taeyong feels safe doing exactly so.

“—I’m gonna cum— ”

He opens his eyes to Taeyong jerking himself rapidly with one hand, other hand fisted in the sheets, still taking a relentless pounding from Doyoung where he’s held up at the hip. Jungwoo holds his breath. Taeyong’s hand pumps himself swiftly, his moans rising in pitch as he edges closer and closer—then suddenly he slows down, mouth open on a gasp of Doyoung’s name and he’s coming, shooting all over his own hand, strings of white spilling over his fingers and onto the bed. Doyoung slows to a halt, watching his boyfriend milk himself empty. Ass in the air still, Taeyong stays like that, panting for a while, and when he decides that’s enough, promptly rolls off the bed carefully cupping his own cum in his palm.

Upright now, Taeyong rolls his head in a circle, straights his spine and stretches out his limbs. “Phew,” he sighs audibly. There’s a sated grin on his lips. 

“I still got some on the sheets.” It’s the first thing he says. “Sorry, Jungwoo.”

Jungwoo snaps back to reality. It takes him a moment to even realize the correlation, and then all the hairs on his arm stand. It’s time. His blood starts to race. Doyoung and Taeyong hyung have showed him, and now Doyoung hyung is going to make good on the second part of his promise. What will it be like? How will Doyoung hyung touch him, make him feel? After watching them, he can no longer imagine himself in Taeyong hyung’s place— there’s just way too much practised coordination and mutual understanding for Jungwoo to pull off. What will Taeyong hyung do while it all goes down? Should he tell them he’s a virgin?

Jungwoo looks over at Doyoung, feeling incredibly nervous and wishing he could say something to ground him. Doyoung stands with his hands on his hips. He has to breathe for a while. “I need to control myself. I’m not finished here,” he grins at Jungwoo.

It fully hits Jungwoo then. He’s really gonna have sex with Doyoung hyung. He’s gonna have his first time in their dorm in Taeyong hyung’s bedroom. He’s dreamed of this, but never in his dreams did he think it could come true, especially after his mess of a confession and learning that Doyoung hyung was already together with Taeyong hyung, and that they loved each other very much. But it had surprised him days later when Doyoung had stopped him around a corner and kissed him. His mind was blown. “Taeyongie said it’s fine,” Doyoung had petted his hair. “He knows how much you mean to me. He can’t stop me from wanting to just…” he leaned in again. “Kiss you sometimes. And he doesn’t want to.”

Could he really say this is an unexpected turn of events? Jungwoo thinks, if he was honest with himself, that a part of him knew it might progress this way the moment they let him watch them have sex. He’s nervous, sure, but equally excited.

“Jungwoo,” Doyoung walks over. “Sweetie. How are you doing?”

Jungwoo gets to his feet. He pulls Doyoung into a tight hug. “Hyung…” he breathes into his neck. His head is so woozy. Doyoung’s arms wrap around his waist, and suddenly he can feel their exposed cocks brushing against one another. Jungwoo swallows back a cry. Doyoung brushes his hands up and down Jungwoo’s back to soothe him.

“Do you still want to...?”

Wordlessly, Jungwoo nods.

“Okay. Give me a moment. Take everything off and wait for me on the bed, okay?”

Taeyong had climbed back onto the bed in the meantime, and is sitting against the headboard close to the wall, drinking a glass of water. Jungwoo strips, then climbs on to sit beside him. He’s feeling self conscious, finally naked. Taeyong’s nonchalant gaze from the corner, settled on his length standing up against his stomach is also not helping. 

Taeyong stares at Jungwoo’s dick. Then he looks over at Doyoung, who’s toweling himself off, and also nursing a glass of water. 

“I just had an idea.” He says past a sideways grin. “But I think I’ll let you guys go first.”

“What is it?” Doyoung runs a hand through his hair.

“Later.”

Doyoung puts down his cup. Then he comes up to the side of the bed and sits down next to Jungwoo. Jungwoo uncrosses his legs. Without a word, smiling beatifically, Doyoung brushes his hand down Jungwoo’s cheek. Once, twice, three times. He runs a knuckle across Jungwoo’s lips. Then he’s tugging Jungwoo’s chin and leaning in. They kiss softly, gently, without the hunger of the first time. Doyoung pecks him and pulls away, pecks and pulls away, until Jungwoo’s lips are seeking him on their own. He gives in, gives himself to him. Kisses like he’s trying to pass onto Jungwoo all the love he feels for him.

Doyoung captures Jungwoo’s bottom lip between his own. When he lets go, they pull apart, watching each other past their lashes with only inches between them.

“How do you want me, Jungwoo?” Doyoung whispers. His breath gently fans across Jungwoo’s face.

_ However you want _ me, thinks Jungwoo. “Any...way…” he replies slowly. His brain isn’t really computing.

Doyoung brushes the hair out of Jungwoo’s eyes. “What do you want me to do?” 

“Anything, hyung...”

“You can tell me. What do you want right now? Anything is okay—right?”

Doyoung looks over at Taeyong, who’s casually sipping his water. Jungwoo follows his gaze, even if he feels, for a split second, like he should look away. Taeyong thinks for a moment, and then nods.

Doyoung turns back to Jungwoo. “Anything. Just say.”

Jungwoo thinks— _ knows— _ what he wants, really. 

“Then…I kind of…” He leans in, until he’s right beside Doyoung’s ear, because it feels like he’s divulging his biggest secret, spilling all the fantasies that lately have been gracing his mind, “want you inside me,” he ends on a whisper.

Doyoung chuckles softly. He licks his lips. “You want me inside?”

Jungwoo is already shivering. “Yeah.”

Doyoung lets go of him. He asks Jungwoo to scoot further down the bed. Jungwoo lies there, knees bent, waiting. Taeyong offers his pillow, puts it under Jungwoo’s head so he can better see what’s about to happen next. From between his legs, Doyoung appears, holding the bottle of lube again. “Up,” he says, patting Jungwoo’s knee, and Jungwoo knows what to do, pulling his legs in and holding his knees so his bum is angling up, and his hole is in Doyoung’s full view.

How embarrassing. It’s so lewd, yet so hot. He’s never shown this part of himself to anyone before, and he can’t believe that the first person to ever see it is Doyoung hyung, the person he loves the most. The thrill slithers through his nerves.

Doyoung admires the view. Jungwoo’s engorged cock, lying in a slant on his stomach, his balls dark and tight. He dribbles a stream of clear lube onto him, starting from the base of Jungwoo’s balls. At the cold sensation, Jungwoo’s asshole twitches, clenches around nothing. Already dreaming, craving his phantom touch.

Doyoung puts a finger to his hole, just lightly brushing over the wetness. “Have you ever done this?”

Jungwoo doesn’t know what  _ this _ means. “Um...not really...only, only by myself.”

Doyoung’s eyebrows rise. Jungwoo watches him turn to Taeyong behind him. It seems like the two of them share a look of some sort. Doyoung turns back, smiling.

“What do you think of? When you,” Doyoung pushes, ever so slightly, “do it by yourself?”

Jungwoo’s bum immediately clenches around the sensation. His fingers had been so close to entering. Jungwoo realizes, belatedly, that Doyoung hyung is trying to distract him so he can be relaxed. But his mind is anything but that. It’s working on overdrive thanks to the innocuous question. Thinking of how to tell Doyoung that it’s  _ him _ .  _ It’s you. I think about you. _

“When you do it,” Doyoung continues. His fingers are circling his entrance, over and over. “How do you relax yourself?”

A thousand images flash across his mind. All of them involving himself in various positions, holding himself open for Doyoung, taking his big cock slow. He can’t believe this is really happening. Doyoung hyung is waiting on him, and he just can’t relax, because he’s so embarrassed that his greatest wet dream is actually coming true. What if Doyoung hyung finds out? What if Jungwoo is...really bad? What if it doesn’t go well? What if half way through, Taeyong hyung decides they’re not allowed to do this anymore?

“Jungwoo,” he hears Doyoung call his name. It’s then that he jolts back to the present, that he realizes Doyoung has been trying to enter him for quite some time. “You’re pushing me out, sweetie.”

“Jungwoo, are you worried?” Taeyong shifts behind him. Soon, he’s crawling over, squeezing in behind Jungwoo. He takes the pillow out from under him and puts it behind his own back, then he pulls Jungwoo by the armpits up against his chest. Just like that, Jungwoo finds himself lying back between Taeyong’s legs.

Taeyong’s arms come around to hug him. He plants a kiss to the crown of Jungwoo’s head. 

“It must be hard to have your first time. Don’t think about anything,” he hears. “Doyoungie will treat you very well.” 

“Yes. Focus on Taeyong hyung, if it helps.”

Right after he says this, Taeyong is leaning down to kiss Jungwoo on the cheek, nudging his way against his neck. Taeyong leaves a trail of kisses down his neck, his collarbones, his shoulder. Taeyong’s hands find Jungwoo’s, and he brings them to their side, laces their fingers together. It truly is somewhat distracting. 

“Remember,” he hears, vaguely, still trying to get used to Taeyong hyung’s presence behind him, “tell your body to let me in.”

Doyoung’s finger presses against him, gentle but with a surety this time. Jungwoo feels it vividly, the intrusion. His finger slides past the tight ring of muscle, making it to the first knuckle before he stops.

Right, Jungwoo thinks. He has to remember to relax his muscles, to command his body to stop trying to repel. He has to remember that he wants Doyoung hyung inside him, he welcomes him in. Taeyong squeezes his hands. Jungwoo looks over past his shoulder, and Taeyong hyung is watching him patiently. Taeyong leans in, and Jungwoo tilts his chin up for him, meeting him in a kiss.

He feels the finger reach deeper inside him, until it nudges something, somewhere...and then he’s moaning into Taeyong’s mouth. 

“You like that?” Taeyong whispers against his lips.

Jungwoo closes his eyes, nods.

The finger slides out part way, pushes in again. Doyoung keeps trying to work him open, slowly but surely until his muscles are used to it. Meanwhile, Taeyong keeps Jungwoo’s mouth busy, and he starts trailing touches across his skin, wherever his hands can reach. Doyoung takes painstaking care not to hurt him. After a while, when Jungwoo feels that he’s ready, Doyoung puts in another finger. This time, Jungwoo clutches onto Doyoung’s shoulders. 

Two fingers is a tight fit, but it’s more sensation. Jungwoo thinks he’s going to go mad from waiting—his body just seems intent on taking as long as possible to get used to the feeling. Doyoung has godly patience, going so slowly for Jungwoo’s first time. It makes Jungwoo wonders what the hyungs’ first times were like, if this meant Taeyong hyung has likewise fucked Doyoung hyung before. Wonders if Doyoung hyung was tight like himself, and he knows to be slow from experience. It’s thoughts like this that keep his mind busy for the next twenty minutes, into thirty minutes, into Doyoung insisting that Jungwoo has to be comfortable with three fingers before he’s willing to try anything further. By then, all three of them have gone soft. Taeyong holds him, the entire time.

It takes what feels like hours before Doyoung is straightening up. He pulls out his hand— and Jungwoo’s still feeling it, knuckle by knuckle— and grips his half hard dick, presses it up against Jungwoo’s and starts jerking them both. Slowly, the blood starts to fill their cocks again. Taeyong offers to stroke Jungwoo if Doyoung takes him on his knees, a naturally easier position, but Doyoung insists he wants to be able to see and hold him as he enters. Taeyong agrees it might be the better idea. 

“Do you want me to use a condom?” Doyoung uncaps and recaps the lube. “Do we even have any?”

“We do.”

“Don’t use it.” Jungwoo grabs his hand, a little too eager. “You don’t...need to use it.”

Doyoung watches him, smiling. “Okay. We’ll try it without.” 

He leans down to kiss Jungwoo again.

“Sorry to have kept you waiting,” Doyoung says, when they pull apart. There’s a river of lube running between where the head of his cock is rubbing gently against Jungwoo’s ass.

“ _ I’m  _ sorry.”

“Don’t be.” He pulls Jungwoo’s hips down, away from Taeyong at last. “I’m going in now. Don’t forget to breathe.”

Jungwoo feels pressure against his entrance. It’s not quite like the three fingers, but he’s used to it now, remembers how to stay loose around the feeling of intrusion. It’s happening, he thinks, vaguely, somewhere in his hazy mind. Doyoung hyung is entering my body. Doyoung hyung is going to give it to me until I see stars. He’s going to use me until he’s overflowing with pleasure. The excitement inside him is back. Jungwoo can barely wait. He feels the head of Doyoung’s cock settle inside him, and in his excitement he has to remember desperately not to clench, not yet, even if he wants to, wants to feel every square inch of hot skin against skin, wants to feel every curve and groove of his cock inside, down to the ridges of his veins.

“Hah…”

“That’s it...good boy.”

“Ungh…!”

Doyoung slides in, painfully slow. Jungwoo feels every inch, nestled inside him, burrowing deeper. When Doyoung finally reaches the hilt, he stares down at Jungwoo with wonder, like he’s so proud of him. Jungwoo’s mouth is open on a silent cry. 

“Do you feel ok, sweetie?”

“Mmhm…” Jungwoo watches Doyoung with his shining, watery eyes. Doyoung’s brows are lightly furrowed, his mouth open as he breathes, eyes intently watching Jungwoo back. In a moment of utter weakness, Jungwoo reaches up for his hands. Doyoung gives them to him, laces their fingers together.

“My heart is hammering,” Doyoung smiles crookedly. He looks over at Taeyong, merely a shadow behind Jungwoo now in the corner. “Hah. Wonder why?”

Taeyong informs him. “You love him, idiot.” 

At this, Doyoung laughs. He leans down to kiss Jungwoo, pressing their hands beside his head.

“Can I move, sweetie?”

“Uh-huh,” Jungwoo all but moans. “Please.”

Jungwoo feels the dick lodged inside him pull out, push back in again, slowly but getting quicker each time. He’s entirely relaxed around Doyoung now, taking his dick well. In his mind, everything else has disappeared, just him and Doyoung hyung fucking on this bed, making love like feral animals. Doyoung holds him as he snaps his hips.

“Uhn...uhn…” 

His voice starts to escape. Being fucked by Doyoung feels so good, his whole body is blushing, blood racing, thoughts reduced to fragments, overwhelmed by sensation. In his delirious state, many salacious, aberrant thoughts grace his mind. Jungwoo would clap a hand over his mouth to prevent himself from accidentally voicing these if he could. He has no confidence in what would happen if he did—never practiced dirty talking, thinks it’s embarrassing—only knows these are the words that drive his fantasies when he’s thinking about Doyoung hyung while touching himself alone. 

_ Fuck me like I’m your slut,  _ he wants to cry out.

_ Please use me like I’m your toy. _

_ Tell me I’m worth nothing if not to be fucked by you. _

_ Tell me I’m a good boy, tell me I take your dick well, tell me I feel good. _

_ I would do anything for you. _

_ Tell me I’m your one and only. _

Jungwoo clenches his eyes shut. He pulls his hands out of Doyoung’s grip and throws his arms around Doyoung’s shoulders. He crosses his ankles behind Doyoung’s back, and the lift in his hips drives Doyoung even deeper inside him. He doesn’t want to breathe. Doesn’t want to feel a moment’s pause. Doesn’t want a hair’s width of space between them, doesn’t want to be apart, wants to meld into one with Doyoung. The dirty words in his mind are driving him mad, and he’s panting loudly into Doyoung’s ears. “Hyung— hyung— ahh—”

“Jungwoo— I’m close—”

A bead of sweat rolls off Doyoung’s temples, drips across the ridge of Jungwoo’s collarbone. Doyoung leans up to kiss him, just once before he’s abruptly pulling apart from Jungwoo’s hold. He detaches himself from Jungwoo with urgency. The moment his cock slides out, Jungwoo feels heartbreak, like he’d lost a piece of himself. He watches Doyoung take a step back, aiming away from him, rapidly jerk himself. His eyes are closed, mouth open on raspy moans. The slapping of his cock in his hand is the only other sound in the room. In another few moments, Jungwoo watches the muscles in Doyoung’s thighs clench before he’s coming all over his hand and the bed.

_ Cum inside me _ , Jungwoo thinks belatedly, lying there catching his own breath. He wishes he had been brave enough to say it.

  
  
  
  


He thought it was over. The first and last time Doyoung hyung will ever fuck him. A bewildering experience he’ll dream about for a long time from now on. He wasn’t confident enough to ask for the things he truly wanted, but it was mind blowing regardless, even if he does have some regrets.

Then Jungwoo feels a hand on his dick—he’d completely forgotten about it, neglected it in his state of being fucked so good. When he opens his eyes, he sees it’s Taeyong stroking him.

And then, in one swift motion, Taeyong climbs onto Jungwoo’s lap, and suddenly Jungwoo remembers that this is a threesome.

Recognition floods back— like a gust of wind sweeping through the layers of his consciousness.

Who they are, what they are to each other.

Band mates, lovers, something else.

Who belongs to who.

How he’s here. 

Jungwoo feels a pang in his chest.

All the while, Taeyong is lining his dick up with his ass. 

Taeyong turns to Doyoung, who is now back with a towel, standing off to the side. “Do you think I can just take him right now?”

Doyoung pauses to think. “I kinda want to see you try.” 

Taeyong peeks down. “Can I try, Jungwoo?”

Jungwoo lies there, steeped in ambivalent emotions, breathless and weak and pliant. It doesn’t even register to him what Taeyong is asking, that it’ll be another first for him to take another man up the ass after just being fucked for the first time. Why the fuck not, he thinks. What is there to stop at, at this point? He’s already so far gone. “Yeah...” He answers, voice raspy.

Taeyong grips his shoulders.

With his hole still stretched loose, he sits straight down. 

It goes so far inside him. Taeyong gasps, eyes lidded. 

Jungwoo watches his own dick disappear into Taeyong hyung’s hole, feels the tight clench, hears his cry of pleasure. Taeyong lifts his hips, then he screws himself back down until he’s taken Jungwoo in to the base. Leaning forward, he starts moving his hips up and down, bouncing his ass on Jungwoo’s cock.

Hands on Taeyong’s legs, Jungwoo feels his thighs clench with every lift.

_ Taeyong hyung is so good at this _ , he idly thinks, through the stupefying fog in his mind.

_ He must be really experienced. _

The thought hits a wall. And then he’s feeling it again, the pang. Like something precious is about to escape him forever.

It’s too much—he covers his eyes with the back of his hands.

Overwhelmed by emotion and sensation, soon, Jungwoo is coming, and coming, and coming, all over himself, all over Taeyong’s back. 

  
  
  
  


Jungwoo pulls the t-shirt over his head.

He doesn’t know what to think, what to feel.

He just knows that now, when he looks at Doyoung, when he looks at both the hyungs, he suddenly has the urge to blush, because this happened. It still feels surreal. It feels unreal that they’re going to go back to being colleagues, go back to being normal friends after this. He feels like he can’t ever see them the same way again, wonders if he’ll be okay in their presence, prays he’ll have enough maturity to handle these memories, this knowledge. After all, there is nothing at all abnormal about this sexual encounter. There is nothing unhealthy about this kind of adult relationship between people who, in one way or another, all love each other. And Jungwoo is an adult, even if he’s still learning, still getting there.

Still. He just came to watch out of curiosity, and now he’s leaving after having lost his own virginity to the man he loves the most, with a feeling lodged inside his chest that he…can’t quite describe.

“Trust me,” Taeyong starts, “Doyoungie is the happiest person alive right now.”

Jungwoo looks over to Taeyong, who’s pulling the sheets off his bed. Soaked with their cum. Nothing got through the first layer, thankfully. He wouldn’t have to wash the mattress cover.

Behind him, Doyoung laughs. “Yeah, you’re right.” 

Jungwoo rolls the edge of his t-shirt down over his chest. Before long, there are arms reaching around him, and he’s being pulled back into Doyoung’s embrace, chest to back, Doyoung hyung’s chin resting on his shoulder. He smiles a little, flushing again. His hand rests lightly over Doyoung’s own, holding him close. His touch, feeble as a dragonfly perched on water.

“Thank you both for making this happen,” Doyoung mumbles before closing his eyes. “I’m very sated. Very happy right now.”

Jungwoo laughs lightly, but it comes out sounding strained. He swallows. 

Happy, sated. He wonders if he can say the same.

It takes another moment of time being frozen, but soon enough Jungwoo sighs.

His fingers, on their own, are prying Doyoung’s hands off him. He grabs his plaid shirt off the floor. For now, he thinks, he just wants to be alone.

Happy and sad at the same time. That’s all Jungwoo can muster.

the end

**Author's Note:**

> miss you jungwoo :'(


End file.
